Memories
by FrostedHoodies
Summary: Accessing the memories of his former life was always a strange experience. One day Jack is looking through his tooth box and remembers a very special someone from his past. Mainly Jack/OC, but Pitch is alluded to. Just a warning that this fic contains homophobic language and sentiments. I do not agree with these views, but I wanted to capture the attitude of the time.


Jack's tooth box glows gold in the darkness, twinkling out at him from its place on the mantelpiece.

Pitch says he should just watch them all, make it like ripping off a band-aid, then he'd know everything and he wouldn't have to worry about what the next tooth might tell him. But Jack can't do that, because once he knows, he can never return to his present state of not-knowing and that scares the hell out of him.

Looking through his memories is always an anxiety-inducing activity. Sometimes Jack never wants to look, figures that it is better that he doesn't know any more about what happened to him in the past. But other times, the fact that he has access to pieces of his past all but consumes him and he feels like he physically cannot go another second without knowing more about himself, his life, the people with whom he shared it.

Certain teeth had just shown a single event, like a family celebration, or an adventure with his sister. Others, like this one, stored in what looks like an incisor, contain a memory that follows a certain theme, showing him scenes from his life that are connected in some way.

He's thirteen years old and he's smiling shyly at a beautiful boy standing in behind him at the market. He's with his mother and something deep inside him says that he needs to be subtle about this, but the boy is so handsome with his floppy blonde hair and gentle green eyes that any second when he isn't drinking in his features is a second wasted.

Jack deliberately lingers, hoping to catch the boy alone, although admittedly he's not quite sure what he will do if his wish is granted. His mother and sister move ahead in the line and Jack edges his way closer to the boy. He feels his stomach swoop pleasurably as the blonde gives him a glowing smile.

"Hi" he murmurs almost inaudibly, heart thump-thumping against his chest and a blush colouring his usually pale cheeks. Jack doesn't understand what's happening to him; he's usually confident, outgoing even, but one glance into those emerald green eyes and his brain goes blissfully blank. Their mothers are distracted, discussing the recent price hike of oranges and in that moment, when the boy leans forward and whispers "I'm Edward" Jack realises that he likes boys in the way that he is supposed to like girls.

He tosses and turns in bed that night, thinking of what he's taught at school, in Church, what his parents say about him one day getting married and having a family of his own.

He props himself up on his elbows when he hears sniffling at his door. His sister is leaning up against the frame, clutching a worn blanket.

"Jack" Sarah whimpers, "can I sleep with you tonight?"

"Yeah, of course" he mutters, scooching over in bed so his little sister can fit.

They hold each other that night, both fighting to keep their own very different nightmares at bay.

Jack's body is thrumming with an intoxicating mixture of anticipation and longing. He's alone with Edward in the kitchen attached to the Church, the rest of the village out in the hall celebrating the Winter Solstice.

"Come here" Edward murmurs. He holds a candied apple out and Jack takes a bite, something warm spreading through his chest that has nothing to do with the heated, sweet fruit. It seems so romantic to be taking food from someone like this; it reminds him of when he was a child and would watch couples steal kisses through steamed-up windows. It was exciting to think that now it was his turn to be doing things that children would watch thinking 'that's what I want one day'.

Glancing around the deserted kitchen, Edward presses his sugary lips to Jack's. They clutch at each other desperately, Jack sweeping his tongue inside Edward's parted lips.

He tastes like hope and future.

It's a bright, icy day and Jack is heading towards the front door, skates slung over his shoulder and Sarah pulling impatiently at his arm.

"Mum, Sarah and I are going skating, okay?"

"Jack, could you talk with me for a minute?" Jack nods his assent and Sarah sighs dramatically before heading outside. "Sit" his mum says, nodding towards the kitchen table. Jack hesitantly perches on one of the stools, beads of sweat forming at the back of his neck. His mother purses her lips before speaking.

"Father Moore says that you have been asking some very strange questions" she says, forehead etched with concern.

Jack doesn't answer, he just stares at the wooden expanse of the table, trying to fight down the cold dread building in his chest.

"Jack, why are you talking about men falling in love with other men, and women with other women?"

Jack's cheeks burn. "B-because, if you fall in love with someone, why does their gender matter?"

His mother looks stunned. "Who is telling you this stuff, Jack? Who is making you think this evil?"

"Why is it so bad if two men love each other?" Jack retorts, staring at his mother imploringly. "I don't understand why everyone acts like it is a sin and no one has ever satisfactorily explained it to me."

Jack gasps as he mother slaps him across the face with her open palm.

"You must never speak like this again" she hisses, eyes wide and nostrils flared. "Do you understand me?"

Jack nods, feeling an odd mixture of sickness and anger at his mother's words.

They kiss almost every day, in stolen moments between school and home, and it is so, so much better than Jack ever could have imagined.

"Do you love me?" Jack asks, after a particularly passionate session which involved Edward sucking on Jack's collarbone until it bruised, careful to make sure that the mark would be hidden beneath his collar. Jack's voice is small, soft and he is secretly praying to a God that he's not sure he believes in for a certain answer and he is terrified that Edward isn't going to give it.

Edward cups Jack's face in his hands, staring into his eyes – emerald into warm brown – as he says "Of course I do."

He's on his knees at his father's feet. He's sixteen and his eyes are prickling with tears because he's too old to be treated like a child, and he's so scared about what his father is about to say. He knows that he's in trouble: his father made his mother and sister wait in the kitchen while he and Jack 'had a conversation'.

"Mrs. Williams said she saw you being _filthy_ with another boy." His father is basically spitting the words out and not making eye contact – it's like he can't even stand to look at Jack. The floor is hard and Jack's knees hurt, but he doesn't dare complain.

"I wasn't being filthy" Jack whispers, fighting to keep his voice even. He really wasn't. He and Edward had been ice-skating out on one of the frozen lakes. Jack had almost fallen and Edward had caught him: warm hands either side of his waist, cheeks glowing brightly in the cold. Jack had felt something twitch pleasurably inside him at how close their bodies were and quickly, blink-and-you'd-miss-it, he pecked Edward on the cheek. It wasn't filthy at all. In fact it had been sweet, beautiful, and Jack can still feel his lips tingling from when they touched Edward's skin.

"Enough!" his father thunders, bringing his cane down on Jack's back. Jack squeaks in pain, curling in on himself in self-defence. He can hear Sarah crying from the kitchen and the thought of her being scared cuts through him like a knife.

"We were just having fun" Jack chokes out, hating that his voice wavers and that he wants to yell but he can't because his throat is too tight. He is just so _angry_, the injustice of it all burning inside him like a flame. They're all so ignorant, all of them Mrs. Williams, Father Moore, his parents…

"It is time for you to grow up and start acting like a proper adult" his father shouts, smacking him with the cane again.

Jack's hands tighten into fists and his shoulders shake. He hates them and their stupid rules and restrictions and arbitrary ideas of what someone can and can't do. He and Edward aren't hurting anyone, but the world seems determined to cause them pain.

He's seventeen years old but he can't remember that right now, can't even remember his own name. He's lying in the upper storey of a barn. His cheeks are flushed and Edward is there with him, sweaty limbs entangled, sleepy, sated smiles on their faces. They're more careful now, making sure they only ever touch or make eye contact when they are completely alone.

"My parents would kill me if they knew what we just did." Jack bites his lip.

"Just because they think they know what's best for us, doesn't mean that they do, Jack" Edward sighs, running his fingers through Jack's thick, brown hair.

"But this is wrong, isn't it? I-I can't even confess it to the priests for fear that they will reprimand me, that's how bad this is."

"Does being with me feel wrong?"

Jack shakes his head.

"Then it's not wrong. Maybe _they're _the ones who are wrong." Edward throws his arms wide, seemingly gesturing to society at large. Jack gazes out the window, noticing how low the sun is in the sky.

"I have to go." His voice is sad and he just wants to lie here, in this barn, forever and ever. He wants to remain here in his little cocoon of happiness where the rules of the 'real world' don't apply to him. But his parents are expecting him home and if he's late he knows he will earn some more beatings from his father. He doesn't want that to happen, not so much because he hates being caned, but because he doesn't want this perfect day to be marred by bloody wounds that quickly become scars. Because one day this will all just be a memory and he wants it to be a happy one.

He links their hands together, squeezing gently, wanting to memorise how Edward's body feels pressed against his own.

"Father wants me to marry Mary Summers" Jack confides, his brown eyes wide and face pinched with anxiety.

"She's a nice girl" comes the dejected reply.

"Yeah." The weight of what isn't being said hangs between them.

"Can we meet up tomorrow?" Edward asks, pressing his face into Jack's bare shoulder, inhaling deeply.

Jack nods fervently, fringe flopping into his eyes, causing Edward to laugh. "In the afternoon though. I told Sarah that I would take her skating."

"'Kay. I miss you".

Jack laughs. "I haven't left yet."

"I know. But I always miss you when you're not around."

"I'm in love with you." The words come out before Jack can censor them, but as soon as realises what he's just said, he knows that he means it. "It doesn't matter what happens between Mary and me. I'll always love you. When we have silent prayer in Church I always pray that God will find a way for us to be together."

"Jack – I - you shouldn't do that." Edward's protest is so weak and he just looks so happy at Jack's words, that Jack cannot believe that Edward means what he says. Cannot believe it for a second. Edward holds his gaze before smiling, his voice trembling with emotion when he says:

"You know what? Who cares about heaven. It wouldn't be heaven if I'm not with you, Jack."

Jack emerges from the memory sequence with wet eyes. He wipes at them impatiently, trying to control his half-sobbing breathing. He cries because he knows he never met Edward after skating with Sarah, cries because they were made to feel ashamed of their love and cries because Edward doesn't know what happened to him and he knows that he will never know what unfolded for Edward.

He can hear Pitch humming some vaguely haunting tune upstairs and smiles sadly to himself. The world has changed a lot since he was human, and it's going to keep getting better. And as for him, he has in this life what he longed for in the last: a man who loves him and no one to stop them from being together.


End file.
